


Moving Forward

by ClydesDuckTape



Category: Logan Lucky (2017)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Depression, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Medical Procedures, Mild Gore, Slow Burn, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:55:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28182768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClydesDuckTape/pseuds/ClydesDuckTape
Summary: What if you weren't your soulmate's soulmate? Since you were young you've been waiting to meet your soulmate, Clyde Logan. Leaving it up to fate and the universe to work it's magic, one day you find your soulmark burning and your heart shattering. Your soulmate Clyde has fallen in love with his soulmate, Sarah. Picking up the pieces of your shattered and destroyed soul, you move forward with your life.
Relationships: Clyde Logan/Reader, Clyde Logan/You, Sarah Grayson/Clyde Logan, Sylvia Harrison/Jimmy Logan
Comments: 2
Kudos: 26





	1. Moving Forward

By the time you were sixteen, the heart and band sticker covered notebook with a little heart gold locket you had tucked away in a locked box under your bed, was filled with your married name. Filled in glitter pen, rainbow pen, bubble letters, and cursive. You had practiced practiced practiced every font imaginable. Even practicing _his_ name in _his_ writing.

The name etched on your wrist, light and just a shade or two off from your skin tone, but always there growing and pulling to fit you perfectly as you lived through space and time. Clyde Logan Logan, written in his handwriting. Your soulmate.

But the universe had yet to make good on its promise to deliver your soulmate to you. While waiting, your heart busied itself with a few partners and casual flings, as well as a few heartbreaks. Patiently waiting for your other puzzle piece to arrive and fit perfectly into your life.

Most days you didn’t ponder the secrets of the universe, but some days you would daydream and plan. You would fight the urge to dive into social media to just check up and maybe catch a glimpse of him. Hoping to fully form your daydreams while you patiently waited for your chance meeting.

Well, one too many heartbreaks and a weekend deep dive a few years ago happened and proved to be practically fruitless. You had turned over various search engines looking for any information on Clyde Logan Logan, squinting at your wrist to confirm spelling and name redundancy; finding nothing other than he hailed from West Virginia, served in the military, and was injured in combat, maybe killed? The trail ending there, no pictures, nothing. Almost resigning your search and leaving it to the universe and fate to deliver him to you.

But of course, Like any perfectly well meaning soulmate, you set up an alert for any mention of Clyde Logan Logan from West Virginia. Years later a little ping sounded on your phone with a link to the Boone County Sheriff’s office and the arrest record of Clyde Logan Logan.

You had an adverse reaction to finding out your soulmate was in prison for 90 days for reckless driving and finding him not pulled from this mortal coil too soon. Reconciling that this person was in fact your Clyde Logan Logan, you poured over his mugshot. Taking in the strong features, deep hazel eyes, stoic and somber look across his face. You tucked away these details in the back of your mind, your heart fluttering at seeing your soulmate but fully understanding that this was not the time to pack up and travel to Boone County in search of your convict love.

Laying in bed, in that time between wake and sleep, you found yourself absentmindedly tracing the raised lettering on your wrist. Thoughts drifting to little snippets of mundane situations, to fully formed fantasies of weddings, adventures, or intimate moments you might spend with this complete stranger, but feeling a fondness and warmth in you that he was out in the world. Even if it was currently a 9x9 jail cell.

Some time later, the lettering on your arm started to burn and itch a little, growing in intensity as the days progressed. Instead of rubbing it for comfort and distraction, you found yourself rubbing it to soothe the feeling or applying topical anesthetics on the days the pain became unbearable; Jolting you awake with tears forming in the corners of your eyes, or disrupting your waking moments, causing you to grasp at your wrist, doubled over in pain. Feeling a similar tear in your heart but chalking it up to the pain in your wrist clouding your mind.

You start to notice your markings are fading. The ‘L’s becoming less prominent, the curls of the ‘G’s and ‘Y’ becoming less visible. Causing you to squint and frown at your wrist, not understanding what is happening. Your mood seems to also fade to a dullness as you work to sooth your wrist, bandaging it up from keeping yourself from rubbing it raw. An overall feeling of hollowness engulfing you from the moment you wake up. Feeling confusion and frustration for something you can’t quite pinpoint.

Then one day your phone pings. Rubbing your wrist, you click the link. You feel the seat underneath you drop out, the air sucked from your lungs, and your mouth run dry. All those stupid phrases you’ve read when someone feels their heart shatter and soul fill with dread.

> _It is with great pride that Clyde Logan of Boone County, West Virginia and Sarah Grey of Washington D.C. announce their upcoming wedding at the Boone County Fairgrounds._

> _Clyde was born and raised in Boone County. An army veteran, he currently works at and owns Duck Tape Bar & Grill where he’s been serving the locals for the better part of the last decade._

> _Sarah was born and raised out of state. She attended Georgetown University earning a degree in Biohazardous Threat Agents and Emerging Infectious Diseases, currently working at Mt. Hope Water Treatment Plant where she’s been a water recovery and filtering advisor for the past year._

> _Clyde and Sarah will become Mr. and Mrs. Logan this fall before friends and family._

This blurb was accompanied by an engagement photo with who you would presume is Sarah looking at the camera and who you knew to be Clyde. His arm wrapped around her waist, head dipped down to hers, looking adoringly into her face. His features now soft and full of light as he looks on at her. Held in her hands is a small chalkboard with the word ‘Soulmates’ written across.

Your brow furrowed in confusion, rubbing your wrist, and removing the bandage you’d takin to applying at night to keep you from instinctively rubbing at it in your sleep. Feeling slightly lightheaded as your head turns as you examine your wrist. Blinking and searching for the familiar script, finding it empty, the skin rubbed and raw but clearly missing his name. Causing you to feel a rip in your chest and a clouding of your senses.

You’d heard of this happening, but your younger childish dreamer self refused to believe it.

You were no longer your soulmates soulmate.

Your Clyde Logan Logan had found his love and light in someone else and you were left on your own.

You allowed your heart to mourn and break for the loss of your soulmate. entertaining the idea of sending him a wedding present with genuine well wishes, but ultimately deciding against it.

Your time between wake and sleep still spent rubbing your wrist, tracing the tendons and creases of your skin instead of his name; while entertaining elaborate fantasies of flying thousands of miles and stopping his wedding. Proving to him that you were his and he yours, but knowing in your heart that he looked so happy and must be happy with her if his name has left you.


	2. A Heart Worth Loving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You try your best to move forward with your life, dating, and working on yourself while Clyde senses something is amiss in his marriage to Sarah.

Picking up the pieces of your shattered heart, you moved forward. Reminding yourself that you didn’t actually know Clyde Logan Logan and you would find someone when the time was right. 

Your first step in closure and processing the grief of losing your soulmate was to pull out your memory box. Adding in the newspaper clipping and your childhood journal, you closed out your time yearning for your soulmate and tucked the box away. You’d also taken to wearing bracelets and cuffs that covered the area on your wrist where his name once resided. Trying to break yourself of rubbing the area for comfort or nervous habit. Next up was finding a counselor to help you process the loss.

The loss of a soulmate was a bit more common than you thought. Having a friend tell you about a friend of their sister’s roommate named something something who knew someone who had the same thing happen to them and they went to counseling at this one place that was conveniently in town. So you contacted the counseling office, set up an appointment, starting your road to mental well being.

Your dreams during this time consisted of emptiness and loneliness. Feelings of isolation and screaming into a vacuum, unable to reach anyone or anything. Your dreams were void of color and light. Waking up in cold sweats, heart beating rapidly.

After a while, your counselor suggested dating again, keeping it casual and non-committal. You reluctantly joined an “ex-soulmates” dating app (Soulmatch) for people who had experienced the loss of their soulmates in various ways, such as lost loves or death.

A few dates ended in crying, a few ending in arguments and cruel words hurled between you both, and one or two ended in budding friendships. Eventually you divested your time from the app and seeking a partner, once again leaving it up to the universe to work it’s magic. But you Continued your grief counseling sessions, hoping to move past this sooner than later.

“Then he got mad at me for ruining his New York golfer joke, which was already pretentious and horribly told anyways, and yelled at me before storming off and leaving me with the bill,” you sigh into your cocktail. “Fuck his Patrick Bateman-looking ass,” lifting your drink and laughing.

You had joined your two best friends for a weekend getaway in the desert. A weekend to reconnect with yourselves, air your grievances, and maybe make out with a few strangers at the local bar. 

Now you were seated in a back booth of a desert dive bar that opened with swinging hinged doors, decorated with rattlesnake skins, various animal skulls, and taxidermed desert critters with an amazing jukebox selection, hand carved furniture, pool tables, and strong drinks.

A few cocktails later, you’re staring into the deep green eyes of a very burly looking man. Sun bleached long hair tucked behind his ears, gruff beard, geometric tattoos, baritone voice, reminding you of that fish king from the comic book movies. Swaying to Alannah Myles on the jukebox (of course this song would play in a place like this), chests touching, his giant hands wrapped around your hips moving with the lilt from side to side. He pulls closer, nose nudging yours as he slots his lips against yours. Mouths moving a little clumsily but with purpose. Your hand moving up to his face, fingers working to weave into his hair, hearing the gentle clinks of the bracelets adoring your wrist. Hooded eyes sliding over to peek at the patch of skin, your attention suddenly caught, eyes bursting wide as you pull your away from his lips with a pop. “What happened, did I do something wrong?” He asks, panic lacing his booming voice. Wide-eyed, you place your hand on his chest, reassuring him, and excuse yourself, heading outside for some fresh air.

Stepping through the shuttered doors, you step under the porch light and pull your wrist close. Tracing the lightly raised skin, faint clumsy writing you recognize. Clyde Logan Logan. 

“You ok?” looking up, you see your bar beau, his hands stuffed in his perfectly fitted jean pockets, a look of concern in his dark eyes. “Yeah, want to get out of here?” Leaving the bar, you leave all thoughts of Clyde Logan Logan for tomorrow.

Waking up you feel the heavy weight of your disrobed burly bar beau draped over your middle, sunlight blanketing over his form, casting a golden halo around his mane. You lay looking at your wrist, listening to his breathing, losing yourself in its rhythmic melody.

If the writing returned, something has to have happened between him and Sarah. 

Blindly reaching for your phone, you text your friends to meet you in the kitchen, hoping to talk this out. You wiggle out from under your sleeping bedmate, pulling on some comfortable clothes and head to the kitchen. Thankfully coffee was being brewed and you’re immediately pulled into a hug. “So, tell us what happened.”

Talking it out, the three of you decide that something must have happen between Clyde and Sarah, but no amount of internet sleuthing pulled any information. Either on Clyde or reappearing soulmarks. Sarah Gray popped up on MyFace, tagged in pictured by a “Mellie Logan.” You recognized her face, clicking on her profile to dig through for any information. Aside from wedding and honeymoon pictures, you weren’t able to glean anything else from Sarah’s profile.

Feeling a pang of defeat, you abandoned your search as your previous evening’s conquest emerged from your bedroom. Again, pushing thoughts of Clyde Logan Logan to the back of your mind again, trying to enjoy the rest of your weekend.

The next week, you picked up your search for any clues to what could have happened with Clyde. Flipping through Mellie’s profile and finding a Clyde & Sarah wedding album on a sleepless night. A photo of Clyde catches your attention. 

Raven hair cascading to his shoulders, crisp white button down shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbow, with a grey vest and darker grey suit pants. A tiny floral boutonniere pinned to his vest. A wide smile graces his lips revealing his crooked teeth, his amber eyes crinkled at the edges. You let out a sigh, finger hovering over the picture, coming down enlarging and pulling the picture to take in the details when you accidentally double tap and your heart drops out of your ass.

“NONONONONONONONONONONOOOOOOONONOSHIT!,” squealing and double tapping to remove the like; throwing your phone away from you like it was made of hot coal, hoping with every fiber of your being that you caught it in time and Mellie wouldn’t receive a notification at 3am. You bury yourself under your sheets, groaning into your pillow.

The next morning you had decided you need some time away from social media apps, uninstalling them from your phone.

You had no right to poke around his life like that. If his name had returned to your wrist, your name would have returned to his. However, you remembered reading about his accident overseas and wondered if along with his hand, he had lost your name as well.

***

Clyde Logan was now a married man. Happily married to Sarah Gray.

She had come into his life unexpectedly right after the Logan clan and Bang brothers had pulled off their cauliflower heist. Jimmy had invited them all to Duck Tape, including Earl and Naaman, for a low key celebration, sharing a toast before going their separate ways. She had been sitting at the bar as Clyde doled out drinks. Apologizing for missing her in the initial toast, she requested he join her for one to ward off bad luck.

“Ya know, they say it’s bad luck to toast alone,” she croons at him.  
“That they do,” lips curling into a shy smile as he fills both their shot glasses.

They spent the evening talking and getting to know each other. Finding out that she was passing through on her way to next town over and the water treatment plant to help the cleanup and the restoration effort that plagued the counties water supply. She was also single and took a genuine interest in him.

At the end of the night, as Sarah closed out her tab, Clyde raked his eyes over her features as she leaned over her receipt, tallying her total. Her hand coming up to brush a strand of hair from her face, the overhead light catching the raised writing on her inner wrist, his name Clyde Logan.

His heart fluttered and flitted in his chest. His breath caught as he took her in. In shock that his name was on this beautiful woman’s wrist. His soulmate. Looking down at his wrist, he found it blank. His soulmate’s name now lost with his hand. Swallowing thickly, “Darlin’,” he leaned in to ask her name, somehow not getting her name all night long.

A few dates later and Sarah claimed to have been offered a more permanent position at the plant and moved into town, further digging into Clyde’s family and his heart. Meanwhile, Mellie had a gut feeling about Sarah. Seeing something was off since the first time they met. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but she always trusted her gut and her Mellie Magic. Both not trusting Sarah.

Unable to pull up virtually anything on Sarah, Mellie kept a close eye on her. Looking out for any trip ups or inconsistencies, but Sarah was a keen woman, keeping on her toes and seemingly one step ahead of Mellie with answers for any and every question Mellie innocently posed. Not wanting to crush her dear brother’s heart, Mellie kept her feeling to herself.

Soon after Clyde and Sarah announced their engagement at a family BBQ. Deciding they needed to be wed and start their lives together as soon as possible. 

Mellie confided in Jimmy about her hesitations, while he agreed that this was moving a little too fast for comfort, this was Clyde’s soulmate and he deserved to be happy. They would let him live his own life.

Clyde and Sarah were soon married at the Boone County Fairgrounds in front of the remaining Logans and their friends. Mysteriously absent of any of Sarah’s friends or family. After the honeymoon, Clyde started work on a cabin on the property he already owned. Building it behind the trailer that would be dismantled once their new home was complete.

Clyde felt the Logan Family Curse had turned and maybe he was rid of it.

As their days together grew in number, Clyde started to notice their relationship becoming a little strained. He offered her everything, physical affection, stories of his childhood, patience, understanding, love. In return he felt her interest shift. Always asking questions but never offering conversation about herself in return. Catching her in hushed conversations, or wandering around Jimmy or Mellie’s homes, claiming to be lost. It made sense the first and second time but now Clyde was growing suspicious.

Their physical intimacy was suffering as well. Sarah had communicated her boundaries at their first time together and Clyde had respected her. Along the way her boundaries grew, starting from not holding her wrists to keeping the lights off and dwindling in frequency. All fine with Clyde, as he loved and respected her, wanted her to be comfortable with him. 

Soon she was physically pulling away and snapping at him in frustration. Dropping his hand whenever he took hers, or turning her head when he went in for a kiss. Hearing her frustrated voice filter though closed doors as she said she had work calls to take.

Clyde felt the coldness of her growing, not wanting to be around him. Making offhand remarks regarding Clyde’s education and soon her taking an interest in other men, such as Joe, Fish, and Earl. All of them coming back to Clyde about compromising situations they felt Sarah had purposefully put them in. Flirting and pressing them for information.

Clyde confided in Mellie all his worries and cataloguing of his crumbling marriage. Growing disheartened and disenchanted with Sarah. 

A greater sense of determination coursed through Mellie, needing to know what Sarah was up to.

As Clyde’s heart was breaking, his left lower forearm burned and ached. He had taken to lightly tapping his metal appendage to sooth the sensation. Mellie caught him doing this, inquiring she had him remove his hand and show her what was bothering him. 

“It’s nothin’” he gruffed.

“You’re sittin’ here banging your arm, I mean you hand tha whole time we’ve been talkin’, Clyde. Take it off, lemme see.” She grabbed her first aid kit, prepared to apply an ointment to sooth whatever was irritating him. 

Removing his metal hand, there on his forearm, about two shades darker than his skin tone, a name he hadn’t seen in over a decade was deeply etched. Letters lined in red, the name hot in anger.

However, it wasn’t Sarah Gray’s name.


	3. In Search of You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mellie Logan keeps an eye out for her sweet brother and takes matters into her own hands.

Mellie found herself reading the same name on her brother’s forearm. The lettering raised and burning read around the edges. Watching Clyde trace the name with his index finger. His lips pursed in a light line, eyes wide, rimmed with unshed tears. “Do you know this name, Clyde?” She reached out and laid her hand on his broad shoulder, landing with a firm squeeze.

“Haven’t seen this name inna long long time.” His voice low and quiet. His mind flashed back to when he lost his hand and wrist during his service, he lost his soulmate’s name too.

***  
Clyde’s eyes crack open, with his vision blurred and the overhead lights burning his pupils. Muffled voices around him start to come out of the fog in his brain, slowly becoming clearer and clearer. One of the blurred shadows leans in closer, their voice still muffled but he can make out his own name and hospital. He spent the next few hours drifting in and out of consciousness, slowly taking in the white walls, the blue sheets, the mechanical beeping around him. Finally moving his arm, he feels the gentle tug of the IVs pulling at his skin and fine hair. His muscles sore from lack of movement.

Moving his left arm, he finds it restrained and he’s unable to flex his fingers. He looks over to find it heavily bandaged and immobilized. Shortly after, he’s speaking with his doctor who recalls the events leading up to him being hospitalized. They tell him about his surgeries and life saving measures taken. They tell him about his hand and his soul mark. They tell him they tried to take a picture of the marking, but there was nothing left to take a picture of.

He tries to remember but he tries to forget. The curse striking him and his family again. He spends so much time rebuilding his memory, his muscles, his mind. When he looks down he only sees the curse. So he tries to forget it’s there. He gets a new hand, he learns how to work with his hand, but finds it gets in the way. The unyielding pink plastic is cumbersome and a reminder. So he tries to forget. Then one day, he wants to remember and he can’t. He can’t remember the slope of the letters, the unique curl and tiny flourish at the end. He can’t remember the details he used to trace over and over again. His heart breaks over and over, the curse still weaving and working its way through his life.

Years later, married to his soulmate, he sees and feels the name reappear on his arm. He smiles at the familiar sight he can’t remember forgetting. Feeling his eyes prick with tears, he turns his head away from Mellie, breathing deep to still his mind. His wife was not his soulmate. How could it be possible for his name to be on her wrist, but her name never on his? He remembered reading a bit here and there on soulmates, but nothing about this came to mind. He excuses himself from Mellie to head home and figure this out. Needing time to process and figure out what he should do, if anything at all.

***  
Rising from the grave after your social media death faux-pas, you’re reminded daily of Clyde. The lettering on your wrist feeling itchy and raw. You hold it close to your chest, the slightest brush or waft setting the skin ablaze. An admonition of sorts.

You reinstall the apps and are bombarded with notifications. Bar beau hit you up once or twice, posting photos from the weekend. Nothing too salacious. You write back and approve the photos for your timeline and work your way through the photos your friends took. One or two a little more incriminating but you approve those too. You comb through your notifications and messages, hoping not to find any indications that Mellie knows of your existence. Thanking your lucky stars, you find nothing of the sort… for a while. Your phone pings with a message from Mellie on MyFace:

Hi, I think Clyde needs you.  
\- M

***  
As soon as Clyde walked out the door Mellie got to work. She recognized your name on Clyde from that one fatefully disastrous night a few weeks back. You had accidently liked and unliked a photo of Clyde in the middle of the night. You had been roaming around her profile page, gone though her albums, double clicked on his photos, and then un-clicked it. But technology worked against you.

Mellie had woken up that morning to see a MyFace notification from some unknown name liking a post of her brother on his wedding day. Squinting at the name, she tried to put a face to the name, knowing just about everyone in town none came to mind. She chuckled as she tossed her phone back down, “How embarrassin’.”

Now she put it all together and quickly went to work. Tracking you down, flipping through your profile, and sending you a message. She wasn’t too sure how to word it but she needed to convey a sense of urgency, deciding to work out the details later.

***  
Following your gut, you responded to Mellie. She wouldn’t give you details, saying it’s not her place, but telling you that it’s time to take fate into your own hands and come see your soulmate.

***  
Clyde spent the next few days researching soulmates, careful to not draw the attention of his ever not-so-doting wife. Researching reappearing soulmarks and associated pain. Finding that when in distress, the soul will reach out to its mate. If the soulmate is still obtainable, they will reciprocate in kind.

He felt his stomach fill with dread and his heart fill with sadness. He had felt such love for Sarah and these past few months, the love he held for her was dying away. The confidence she had given him now replaced with mortification and witlessness.

How did this happen so suddenly?

He would find out, but in the meantime he was going to continue as normal and keep his arm hidden from Sarah. 

***

Jimmy shows up at Mellie’s with a poster board he had found some time to prepare. At the top, a heading that reads “Sarah’s Cauliflower Plan” in bubble letters and glitter. “Sadie wanted to help.” Working together, Mellie and Jimmy map out a timeline of Clyde and Sarah’s time together. Pulling stories they had heard from Earl and Joe, as well Fish and Sam.

It turns out Sylvie was able to get them a bit more insight regarding Sarah and her time at the water treatment plant. Finding out that her role there was only in title, while she went to work at the facility daily, she wasn’t actually working on anything related to the treatment of water.

Mellie’s baker connection was also able to help, getting a covert listening device installed in her office. Now all they had to do was listen and wait before approaching Clyde with what they had.

***  
You pull your rental car up into the parking lot of the Duck Tape Bar and Grill. It’s exactly what you pictured from the wedding announcement.

Sitting in the car, knuckles white from your grip on the steering wheel, you psych yourself up. Rationalizing that you are merely checking in on Clyde. You had briefly spoken to Mellie who wasn’t giving you all the details, but you knew and could feel that he was in distress. Researching returning soulmarks only lead down a rabbit hole of ominous information and dubious situations. So now you found yourself states away from home, about to take over for fate and meet your soulmate.

Taking a tentative step into the bar, you wince at the ruckus of the bell above the door. “Hello, what can I’getcha?” His deep baritone voice running through your chest as your eyes meet, a soft smile gracing his lips.

Choosing a seat close to the door, you softly ask for water and whatever he has on tap. No time to decide on cocktails while you have sussing to do and a heart racing wanting to burst out of your chest.

When he turns around to get your requests, you eye him up and down. Taking in his tall build, broad shoulders, shampoo commercial style hair, all of it. Noticing his prosthetic arm, connecting it to his time in the military. You instantly become a little uncomfortable with yourself, knowing too much about this stranger.

As he hands you your beverages, you glance at his flesh hand’s wrist. Finding it blank and frowning, absentmindedly tugging your sleeves down to cover your wrists. Glancing over at his mechanical wrist, you find it smooth without any markings. As he moves away he lightly taps the bar top, “jus’ holler if ya need anything.” Nodding before turning his attention to one of the handful of patrons at the bar.

Watching him shuffle over a few steps, gently rest his palms on the bar top, and lean in close to the person sitting at the far end of the bar. She’s playing with the ends of her auburn hair and lightly slaps his forearm, letting off a soft dreamy giggle, reaching up with her free hand to play with his hair.

You feel the seat underneath you drop out, the air sucked from your lungs, and your mouth run dry. All those stupid phrases you’ve read when someone feels their heart shatter and soul fill with dread. She must be Sarah.

Looking back to Clyde, you don’t see the distress Mellie warned you about.


	4. Something in There

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jimmy and Mellie have a talk with Clyde.

Mellie’s bug had caught Sarah coming into work almost daily. She would sit and type a lot, exactly what, they didn’t know but she would also dictate notes to herself and place a few calls to a ‘Brad Noonan’. She mentioned Max Chilblain’s “attack” statement, as well as ‘Warden Burns’ covering up something at the prison. But nothing super incriminating popped out.

Running a search on Brad, Mellie initially suspected this could be a fling or affair of Sarah’s, but wasn’t able to find too much on him aside from a social media page. Here she scrolled through his page seeing he was happily married with a lovely family. Dipping in and out of photo albums for anything else, she saw he worked in an office for the government, liked to fish, had been to the Charlotte Motor Speedway, and lived in Washington, D.C. 

She was getting frustrated and annoyed at herself, thinking they might be on a fruitless endeavor until one photo caught her attention. A company lunch of sorts, with a group of people all sitting around a long rectangular table. Standing behind Brad was Sarah, looking _slightly more_ rigid, hair pulled back in a neat bun, turtleneck, button down shirt (that was excessive), and a fitted blazer. Hanging from her belt was a little badge, with a little eagle in the top and the words FEDERAL running along just underneath. Caption reading “Celebrating another case closed!”

Choking on the cherry coke she was sipping, with trembling hands Mellie quickly saved the picture and set to work verifying her suspicion. Calling Jimmy to come over in the process.

Heading out to his truck, Jimmy ran into his love, Sylvia, who was running from her car, out of breath. “I have news, but we need to call Mellie, ”she blurted out. “I’m headin’ over right now, get in the truck.”

Mellie greeted them with a Cheshire cat sized grin on her face and directed them to sit in the living room. Sylvia had caught her breath, “Sarah came in-.” Her attention caught by the glittered poster board, reading the elegant writing underneath. She quickly got up walking over, asking for a pen and added her own notes to the board.

##  **Sarah’s Cauliflower Plan**

  * Marry Clyde
  * Solve Hillbilly Heist?



(Under these were notes supporting this theory:)

  * Showed up after Jimmy’s cellphone was FINALLY cut off
  * Moved real quick with Clyde
  * Water treatment plant cover - Bug
  * FBI investigator
  * Sarah GreySON
  * Fake soulmark



As soon as Sylvia stepped away, Jimmy’s eyes nearly fell out of his head.

Mellie’s cherry red tipped hand comes down with a loud smack on Jimmy’s shoulder and a wave of relief washes over her but the next wave is anger and sadness. Her eyes closed in sadness and frustration at what had to come next.

Jimmy’s heart broke for his little brother. He blinked at the board and turned the two women in front of him, knowing that he couldn’t name another soul in the universe that he trusted more and knew he could count on, aside from Clyde. Looking at Mellie, she met his eyes. Eyes full of sadness and determination, a little bit of Mellie’s magic gone but in its place is a stern and unforgiving look. One mirrored in his own eyes, knowing what they had to do.

They headed to the bar, hoping to talk Clyde into coming to Mellie’s that evening to show him what they had, but needed to make sure it was in a private place. Their game plan was to play it cool at the bar and not alarm Clyde.

***

Running her fingers through his hair, she tugs on his inky locks. Tossing them about, catching the bar lights. 

“Y’need to come in for a trim, Clyde. Y’know how many women would kill for yer hair?” Mellie resumes twiddling her own ends, looking up at Clyde. He huffed a laugh and dips his head low hiding his tight lipped grin.

She slapped his arm again, lighter than before. “Clyde, can you skip out early? Jimmy and I wanna talk. Have some family _family_ time t’gether. Come over, I got y’favorite beer n’ we can grill.”

He looked at his siblings reluctantly but saw that their eyes hold a pleading look. He hadn’t really spent quality time with them in a bit and could use it himself. “Next shift is due in ‘bout half hour, I’ll head over after.” 

Looking around, the bar was pretty much empty. Including your seat, which sat vacant with an untouched beer and water.

***

You had seen his face, looking at the woman at the end of the bar. His head dipped low and the look of love in his eyes. A soft look he held for her, his shoulders relaxed, hiding and hiding his grin. 

He didn’t look distressed or heartbroken and you were happy for him. 

Not wanting to intrude, you decided to pay for your drink and head to your hotel room. Laying down some cash, you headed out of the bar.

Once you got settled in your room at the inn down the road, you took a long shower washing away the day’s travel and worries. The front desk had a selection of local eatery menus, so you decided to savor the local cuisine and order delivery.

You had left your return home open ended and decided to leave planning the return trip home to the following day, taking a moment to settle your mind and leave important decisions for the next day after a good night’s sleep. You tucked in early, letting the small television over the dresser play local programming.

***  
Clyde arrived at Mellie’s house in the late evening, deciding not to text Sarah since he’d probably be home around his usual time anyway. Jimmy had started the grill and was cooking up some of Clyde’s favorite cuts while Mellie and Sylvia prepared a few of his favorite sides. Figuring a full belly might soften the blow or at least he’d fight to keep it down.

They settled in and ate, trading work stories and laughs, drinking a few beers. Until there was a bit of a lull in conversation, the air growing a bit thicker. Clearing her throat, Mellie spoke up, “Clyde, we need to talk about Sarah.”

Setting down his beer, he nodded an affirmative. He knew this was coming, he had spoken with them both about how he was feeling lately and how strange Sarah had been acting. Pursing his lips, he took in a deep breath and urged her to go on.

Jimmy proudly pulled out the glittering poster board, causing Clyde to roll his eyes before reading over the bullet points. Once he reached the last line, he turned back to his kin.

Mellie filled him in on her FBI findings and showed him the MyFace picture as well as a copy of Sarah’s FBI employee page she was able to get directly from the Bureau’s website, with Sarah’s full name. She also found b-roll news footage of Sarah walking out of the Speedway, badge on her hip avoiding the cameras as best she could. Next was Sylvia, who had what Jimmy thought would be the hardest news to hear.

“Has Sylvia been… odd with her soulmark lately, Clyde?” Tilting her head, voice soft. Clyde muttered a low affirmative and she continued. “I’ve been workin’ urgent care at the hospital lately and Sarah came in this mornin’ with her wrist all bandaged up. I didn’t treat her, but it was so odd that the resident nurse took pictures and came t’talk about it after she left.” 

Swallowing thickly, she pulled an envelope out and handed the contents to Clyde. 

“Her mark is infected. That never happens with soulmarks, they just burn away and disappear but they never fester and become inflamed like this.” Clyde’s eyes darted around the pictures, taking in his name rimmed with angry red inflamed skin. Looking more and more like an abomination. 

“She has contact dermatitis from the type of ink used. Meaning, she’s havin’ an allergic reaction to the tattoo ink. Allergic reactions can take days, months, or years in some cases to show up.” Not knowing what else to add, Sylvia sits back in her seat, chewing her bottom lip with a sympathetic look in her eyes.

Clyde let the words wash over him. He took in everything his family had carefully laid out in front of him and pulled a long swig from his beer.

Sylvia got up giving Jimmy a worried look before walking over to Clyde. Putting her hand on his shoulder and leaning down whispering “I’m sorry” and laying a gentle kiss in his hair. Clyde’s flesh hand came up to hers, giving her a gentle squeeze but eyes not meeting hers, head held down. Eyes still on the pictures before him.

Jimmy and Mellie sat in silence, staring at Clyde. His eyes combing them over and over, still processing the information in front of him. Mellie finally got up walking to her bedroom, knowing she had to leave her brothers to discuss this. Turning before heading into the hallway, “You can stay here as long as you need, Clyde.”

Jimmy looked at his brother, the brother he failed to protect. He scolded himself for letting this person come into their lives and use his brother to get information about his plan, his idea. Feeling guilty, Jimmy opened his mouth to apologize to Clyde who shuts him down with a simple “S’not yer fault.” Jimmy wanted to argue with him but for once was at a loss for words.

Calmly gathering the pictures and stuffing in the envelope, Clyde got up. “I’m gonna go.” Nodding Jimmy, still not looking him in the eyes and walked out to his car. Soft steps carrying him through Mellie’s home as Jimmy watched him from the dining table.

He didn’t remember how he the drive, but he found himself outside his home. The home he built for Sarah, once he hoped they would fill it with a family of their own. 

He wondered what she knew, if she had the information she needed. But Mellie told him that as far as they could tell, she hadn’t made any progress with the case and wasn’t able to tie them to the money or place any of them at the speedway that day. She had nothing.

So he sat in his car. Looking down at his hands, his heart breaking a little more. Possibly the final cracking and shattering to his heart, but also a sense of confusing relief. He still had to talk with Sarah, show her what he found out but he felt relief that he wasn’t wrong in how he was experiencing lately. This feeling might be hope?

His soulmark itched a little fiercely than usual, enough for him to remove his prosthetic and run his fingers over the name. Staring at it in the moonlight filtering in through the windshield, Clyde pulled out his phone and typed your name into the search engine. 

The first hit was a MyFace account link, which he clicked, and huffed out a breath of annoyance. He had to create an account in order to look at your profile but going against his better judgement, he created a profile and searched for yours again.

Hand trembling and breath shaking, Clyde looked over the main picture on the page. 

A picture of you, looking back at him. Closing his eyes recalling your face greeting him in the bar earlier that night. 

Finger hovering over the screen, he quickly tapped the “add friend” button and exhaled a shaky breath.


	5. Moving Forward, Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Conclusion chapter. Clyde and Sarah have a talk and the stars align for once.

Waking up, Clyde unfolded his long limbs, sitting up to stretch out the kinks in his muscles from sleeping on the couch. When he finally walked into his home the night before, he found Sarah asleep in their bed with her wrist freshly bandaged. He wanted to avoid waking her, delaying the inevitable, and slept on the couch.

Before falling asleep, he had reached out to Mellie for any employer contact information she had for Sarah. Waking up to a few numbers, he put on a pot of coffee and stepped outside to call the local FBI office.

*

Sarah woke up to the smell of cooked bacon and fresh coffee. A tiny smile graced her lips as she quickly got ready for the day. Stepping into the kitchen, she found Clyde at the stove finishing up a batch of eggs. He had laid out a spread of burnt bacon (just like he liked it), over easy eggs, buttered toast, orange juice, and coffee. 

She sauntered up to him, wrapping her arm around his waist and tilting her head up to kiss his cheek. “Smells burnt, like ya like it,” she huffed out in a sultry voice as she leaned in. He tried not to flinch and turned his head away, gesturing to the table, “Take’a seat before it gets cold.” He wiggled out of her hold, turning to scoop the eggs onto their plates. “You spoil me,” she gently patted his stomach before sliding into her seat.

She settled in, piling on bacon and toast, sipping on coffee, humming in approval. Clyde carefully sipped his coffee, watching her move over her plate, looking from her bandaged arm, hidden under her sweater, to her hair framing her face. Feeling violated and sick to his stomach. Reaching under his place setting he pulled out the pictures Sylvia and Mellie had given him. 

“What’s that, baby?” She looks up as he leans over and silently drops them next to her plate.

She shuffled through the pictures, seeing the FBI profile and her infected tattoo. “How did you get these?” she looks up at him with wide eyes. “Does it matter?” His arms crossed, eyebrows furrowing into a straight line to match his lips.

“Clyde, it’s not what-”

“NO, “ he slammed his coffee cup down. “It’s exactly what it looks like, Sarah. Tell me exactly what it looks like.”

While he hadn’t screamed at her, he raised his voice which was laced with distain and disgust causing her to flinch. She spent several minutes trying to compose herself, trying to find the right words, and Clyde patiently waited. Sipping on his coffee, looking at her through darkened brows, he just waited. 

The thick silence was cut suddenly by her phone ringing. She looked at the number, eyes widening. This number shouldn’t be calling this phone. She silenced her phone, avoiding Clyde’s glare. “Y’gonna get that?”

“No, I-”

“I think y’should get that.” He motions to the phone, another call coming through.

She reluctantly answered the call, “Sarah Grey…son, speaking.” Clyde caught her gaze and bored his stare into her eyes as she listened to the voice on the other end. She huffed out an occasional affirmative and tried to get a few words in but was ultimately shut down. Ending the call with “I’ll be in the office tomorrow.”

As she set her phone down, Clyde’s eyebrows raised slightly in a knowing but feigned look of ignorance. “Honey, who was that?”

“You know exactly who that was Clyde. How long have you known?”

“I don’t owe y’any explanations, but y’owe me.” Sarah hesitated, watching him pull another sip of coffee. 

Finally relenting to his unwavering stare, she let it all out. Pointing to the photos, she confirmed that she was investigating him and his family, looking for any clues or slip-ups regarding the Hillbilly Heist. Telling him that while she was undercover, she _was_ supposed to be pulled out soon due to lack of leads and evidence in her time with him. She pointed to her tattoo, calling it an unexpected snag in her plan.

“Did y’ever love me?”

“No, Clyde. This,” pointing between them, “was all part of the job. I did what I had to do.”

“Y’went to far, Sarah. Y’know it and now yer people know it.” 

Clyde’s phone call earlier raised some serious concerns back at the Bureau. Sarah had stayed past the extraction date and had taken unapproved steps to imbed herself. Clyde provided them with all the details and threatened a harassment lawsuit since this person had married him under false pretenses and was now harassing friends and family with no evidence of their wrong doing aside from a hunch. It had been well over a year since the events at the speedway and Clyde’s incarceration. During this time he had more than proven himself to be a law abiding citizen and didn’t appreciate this interference in his life. 

Being in agreement with Clyde’s concerns, Sarah received a direct order to return back to her office immediately to meet with her superiors. What waited for her back in DC, Clyde could only guess but she got up from their breakfast table, heading into their bedroom. She simply picked up her purse and walked out the front door.

As soon as he heard the door close, Clyde let out a wail of anger from somewhere deep down in his gut. 

Sarah heard it as she walked to her car, walking past Jimmy and Mellie standing outside Clyde’s home. They both heard him as they watched her walk stutter, keeping her eyes cast down as she walked past them. She then simply drove away.

***  
Clyde sat with his head in his hands, hair fallen in a raven curtain closing him off from the world. He heard Jimmy shuffle around in the kitchen, while Mellie got to work cleaning up the dirtied pots and pans. Looking up from his cocoon, face flushed and stained with tear tracks, Clyde saw his brother sitting where Sarah sat minutes earlier, sipping coffee, and chewing on toast. The look of love and sorrow in his eyes for his little brother. Clyde sniffled and set to eating his cold breakfast. “She’s got nothin’” He mumbled between bites. With that a weight was lifted off Clyde’s shoulders. Chest hollow but shoulders a little lighter.

He recounted the encounter as his siblings listened to him without interruption. Both saving their curses for later, another time. He told them every thing and when he told them about you as Mellie’s eyes lit up.

***

Your phone pinged you awake. The sunlight coming through the crack in the curtains hitting you right in the eyes. Groaning you picked up your phone from the nightstand, looking at it through one squinted eye. You had a few messages from friends, a private message from MyFace, and a friend request notification from Clyde Logan which caused you to sit up ramrod straight.

Heart thumping in your chest, you opened the app, and hesitated. _Why was he looking for you?_

Giving yourself a little moment to think, you opened your private messages and found that Clyde had _just_ messaged you, asking you to come back to the bar that afternoon. You responded, accepting his invite, and laying back down, feeling confused and worried. 

Your soulmark wasn’t feeling any different. In fact it felt fine, for the first time in weeks your soulmark was calm.

***  
The afternoon breeze swept through the porch as Clyde sat out of the bar. Sitting in a low chair, sipping a beer, with his feet propped up on the porch railing. He sat watching the sporadic traffic and his surroundings, keeping his mind clear, just enjoying the silence for the first time in a long time. He had a few minutes left before he had to open the bar for the afternoon. 

The silence was broken by the gentle crunching of gravel as he watched your car pull into the parking lot. Swinging his legs down, he finished off his beer, and set the bottle down, exhaling and rubbing his hands on his jeans.

Walking up to the porch you took in the sight of him and offered him a small uneasy smile with brows furrowed in concern and nervousness, almost mirroring his which he tried to relax.

“Hi, Clyde.” You offered your hand as he returned the greeting, taking your hand in his. The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end when your name left his lips. Instantly softening your features and relaxing you a bit. You noticed his body loosen up as well. “Thanks for coming over, Mellie told me why y’were in town.” Nodding at him, you tease, “What are soulmates for?”

Clyde took a deep breath and tensed up a bit, giving a very abridged recounting of the events, leaving out the heist and a few incriminating details. He figured he’d save those for later. 

You sat listening intently, tears pooling in your eyes, blood pressure raising in anger at the deceit, and resting a hand on his forearm giving him reassuring squeezes when he needed to pause and compose himself. 

Clyde felt a little lighter after recounting his time with Sarah. Surprised and reassured at your comforting words. Letting him know you would be there for him if he needed to talk, scream, or be silent with someone.

That evening you kept him company at the bar, joined by Mellie and Jimmy, who was excited to meet you but also cautious. You couldn’t blame him. 

Mellie squealed with happiness at your presence and she took it as a good sign that your came after she messaged you. She knew while it didn’t erase everything Sarah did, it helped Clyde to have you there. She hoped there was a little something-something between you two.

The night ended with Clyde following you down the road to the inn, making sure you entered your room, and flashing his headlights before driving home.

The next morning you met him for breakfast. A bit of nervousness taking over as you got ready, wondering what would happen from here. You’d also packed your bag and planned to head to the airport straight after.

He sat a almost too comically tiny booth rearranging the silverware in front of him and tapping his prosthetic finger on the laminated table top, anxiously waiting for you to arrive. Once he spotted you, he quickly rose from the booth, nervously running his big paw through his hair, and waving you over. 

“Morning, Clyde,” giving him a sweet look before giving him a hug and settling in. “Mornin’.” His voice a little deeper so early in the morning, but he wanted to see you before you left.

Over plates of eggs, bacon, and corn pancakes, the conversation was comfortable, at times fun, and a bit somber with Clyde wondering what to do and what would happen next. 

“Not everyone’s like us, meeting their soulmate, but I don’t think I’m ready for another relationship right now.” Completely understanding that less than 48 hours ago he thought his marriage had hit a rough patch to now figuring out how to dissolve his marriage, you agreed. So you both decided to keep it casual and friendly, letting things progress how they might.

It had been 6 months of a long distance friendship, with you and Clyde flying out to see one another as often as possible but daily you had video chats, constant texting, and a few phone calls just to hear each other’s voices. Clyde still wasn’t the biggest fan of phone technology, but he tried his hardest for you and was soon becoming a pro.

Clyde had flown out to visit you a few times. Meeting your friends, getting to visit your favorite spots, and seeing how you lived in your comfortable apartment. Being the respectful gentleman he was, he insisted on sleeping on your couch, an uncomfortable loveseat that turned into a larger-than-single-sized bed but not by much. For the first few visits he slept on the pull out, all his limbs hanging over the edge.

This time you were visiting him and Clyde was ready to have _the_ conversation. Wanting to try dating, even if it continued long distance for a bit. He was feeling his heart mend and felt fuller with you. He was happier and knew that it wasn’t entirely due to your presence but you helped him heal and find himself again. 

Without knowing his intentions for this visit, you had been reflecting on your previous visits, how he stood a little closer, when he hugged you he held onto you a little longer, and you caught yourself stealing glances at him a bit more often. Hands brushing and butterflies fluttering in your belly. When you weren’t together, calls ended when one of you fell asleep first, always making sure to greet the other every morning, and checking in to make sure you had taken you multivitamin and he put on his moisturizer with sunscreen.

He insisted on picking you up from the airport, driving back to his place where he had a box of your favorite pastries from a local bakery you loved but was closed for the day by the time you landed. He also had the table set with a tiny bouquet of your favorite local flowers you had seen and always admired on your walks through the neighboring woods. None of these little extra details going unnoticed.

After washing the trip off, Clyde had prepared dinner for you. One of his favorite crockpot recipes, some wine, and one of his favorite childhood movies while you both sat on the couch. Scooting a little closer to each other while you watched the group of kids run through the underground tunnels, searching for pirate treasure, and running from the criminal family.

You felt his arm fidget a bit next to you, so you pulled back and gently poked his arm causing him to raise it up. Scooting in and snuggled into his side, placing your hand on his lap, it all felt just right. He couldn’t hide the goofy grin that spread across his face and hoped you could hear the movie over the drumming in his chest as he brought his head down to brush his nose in your hair.

That night you slept on the couch, not quite knowing how to brooch the sleeping arrangement, which was never an issue until now…maybe. You both laid awake, the house unsettlingly quiet. 

Staring into your phone, you pulled up your conversations with Clyde, seeing the three little dots appearing and disappearing. Getting up, you pattered up to his room where the door was open. 

Clyde’s head rested against his headboard, face illuminated by his phone. He was chewing his lip, huffing in frustration as he repeatedly deleted and restarted his message to you. You gently tapped on the doorframe, causing him to look up. A tiny smile gracing his lips again. You motioned at the bed and he pulled back the covers for you to join him.

You both spent the next few hours talking and holding each other. Fingers carding through his hair as he laid his head on your chest and gently traced your soulmark. Holding your arm in the air above him, rubbing your wrist as if he needed to confirm that the mark was real and you were real.

Bringing your wrist to his lips he placed a kiss, “Lands can be separated by the ocean, but souls can’t be separated by anything.”

“What, where did that come from?”

Placing another kiss, he chuckled almost to himself and worked his way up to meet your eyes, “betterlifethoughts dot com.” You both tilt your heads a little closer, meeting as he placed a long soft kiss on your lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this little fic. I really do hope you enjoyed it! It was very fun to write and it's my first series. A little nerve wracking but fun all the same!

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr: ClydesDuckTape


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